Tag Archives: supernatural

I Want to Live in a Haunted House

For the first time, I think I can truly understand why people say that their house is haunted. I don’t believe in ghosts. I don’t believe in the supernatural. I don’t believe in anything that can’t be proven with the logical, brute force of Science.

But….

Late last night, I was in bed reading when I thought I heard the back door open and then close. A minute or so later, I heard footsteps walking passed the dining room door. I called out to Emily.

No answer.

I got out of bed and walked out into the dining room and into the hallway. No-one was there. Emily wasn’t home and I was all by myself.

It was a little nerve-wracking.

This is no isolated incident. The doors open and close on their own. The venetian blinds hum and chatter. There are the sounds in the walls like something is pressing to get in.

It’s an old house. It moves and settles and shifts. The doors close and open because they’re too damn loose on their hinges and the wind from the open windows opens and shuts them.

I know it. I internalize it. And I still don’t believe in ghosts. Not one jot.

But….sometimes, when it’s really late at night and I’m all alone in the apartment and I hear those soft and sinister sounds start up again, deep within the walls of the house and moving across the floorboards like cat’s paws, I can’t help but want to believe there are ghosts making their way through the apartment with unearthly purpose.

Because, really, isn’t that more fun that a seventy year old house with some creaky floorboards?

-D-

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Movie Review: The Baby’s Room

Article first published as Movie Review: The Baby’s Room on Blogcritics.

Sonia (Leonor Watling) and Juan (Javier Gutiérrez) are a young couple with a baby. They’ve just moved into that house: the one that needs a lot of work, has had five different owners in as many years and is probably infested with helldemons. Then, the unexpected happens and strange noises and creepy figures start menacing the family. It’s up to Juan and his video camera to discover what’s trying to kill them.

The Baby’s Room (La habitación del niño) is a Spanish made-for-TV movie, part of the Films to Keep You Awake series (Películas para no dormer). It’s similar to the Masters of Horror series of Showtime, in that there’s blood and nudity and an astonishing amount of cursing en español.

It’s a strange mix of quirky humor and gritty, stomach dropping creepiness. It has a very similar tone to Poltergeist, where there were those funny moments right before the audience is dropped into a pit of horror. Things will be hunky-dory, with Juan joking around with Sonia and then two scenes later, there’s a dead body slithering across the floor. All the scenes with Juan and his camera in hand are stomach clenchingly creepy. The camera can see what he can’t and he wanders through his rambling house witnessing terrible things.

For all the creepiness, there are problems. The Baby’s Room is a brutally quick 79 minutes. As a result, the pacing feels rushed. Juan believes he’s in a haunted house without even pausing to consider other alternatives. Juan’s wife runs out the door at the first sign of trouble and their marriage goes from idyllic to broken in the space of a day. Character development is hinted at, but there’s never any follow through. At one point halfway into the movie, the boss tells the Juan that all they ever talk about is soccer. This is funny, because up until this point, they’ve never mentioned soccer. There’s just not enough time to develop the plot, so it all feels condensed and forced.

The music is also unnecessarily bombastic. It kind of ruins the tension when violins and drums suddenly barge their way through the scene. What’s worse is the music is so generic. I know I’ve heard this scary music before in other movies. Sometimes, scary music hurts a horror movie more than it helps and this is one of those cases.

Overall, The Baby’s Room succeeds in being a creepy little movie, but bad pacing, a lackluster soundtrack and odd character moments keeps this from being more than an average thriller.

Dylan Charles

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In Search of Ghosts

Since Halloween is now closer than ever, I’ve been getting interested in the spooky again. This time, what with living in such an old city, my focus has been on haunted places: houses, forts, graveyards and what-have-you.

Problematically for me, however, is the fact that I do not believe in the supernatural. This causes an issue when I hear that a scary story is true. I want them to be true. I really want to believe in them, if only so I can scare the bejesus out of myself.

And barring actually knowing if it’s true or not, I’ll even accept a little bit of mystery. I’ll accept the possibility of it being true, no matter how remote it is, just to keep that mystery alive. I want there to be mystery in the world, I want there to be trolls under bridges and magick in old forests and ghosts in the attic.

On the flipside, I can’t abide superstition and I can’t abide a belief in ghosts and spectors and phantoms. There is no such thing as spooks, there is no magic and I raise my eyebrows at folks who believe in those old campfire tales.

So puzzle that paradox out and I’m going to move right along to the point of this blog entry.

In view of the fact that it’s Halloween and taking into account my bipolar views on the supernatural, I decided I’m going to look up a haunted place in Boston and then go take a looksee. My only problem is picking a place to go. I found one place that looked promising, but then saw no other information on the supposed hauntedness of it outside of that one website. Finally, I settled on Fort Warren, a local Civil War Era fort on George’s Island.

Unfortunately I disproved the ghost without ever leaving my chair, which will be the subject for tomorrow’s blog entry.

The point is, I’m disillusioned and it’s only the first day of my grand mission to go to a haunted place. Maybe I need to stop being so skeptical. Except that feels like I’d actually have to turn off my brain, something I’m adverse to doing.

I want to be scared damn it and I refuse to accept that it’s impossible to do so.

Dylan Charles

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